dart cup

Inspired by THIS POST about gay Disney Princesses. 

When the old beggar comes to the door, Addy knows better than to let her in. She doesn’t look at the rose or the woman too long; she shuts the door.

Some will call her arrogant or selfish, but what is she to do? No guards, parents in the capital (not, here, not here), and the knowledge that she is the damsel in all those fairy tales weighs heavily on her mind. Oh, little princess, far from home and alone, so alone.

The Enchantress (for they do not call her witch) makes sure that she stays that way.

Alone except for her wilting rose.

(She did not want it, would not take it, so she was bound to it. Such is the way of Princesses.)


Addy used to have frightful bursts of temper. Her face would turn red, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, mouth screwed into an upside down kidney bean. Anything could set her off; a too tight corset, a walk ended too quickly, another toy sword taken away. She’d wail and scream, kick her feet and punch the air, tear and rend anything within arm’s reach.

The first time she has a fit in her new form, it’s after Mrs. Potts reads the King and Queen’s decision on her…condition. She’s to stay here, on the outskirts of their kingdom, until a Prince comes to release her from her spell. Alone until a different sort of bond is forced on her, until she is made to change from princess to beast to bride.

Addy know why they refuse to save her. It’s because she’s always been too big, too strong, too ill-tempered, too–

In her rage, Addy upends the tea tray, forgetting, forgetting, forgetting.

She is reminded when fine china falls to the hard ground, when it rattles, when it shatters, when it screams.

“No!” Addy falls to her knees next to her dishes– no, her friends and frantically rights them, apologies tumbling from her lips, eyes brimming with tears.

“Temper,” Mrs. Potts murmurs, more out of reflex than anything, looking obviously terrified. She hops from her side to her base, better able to control her new body than any other castle resident. Her lid is sitting askew and her eyes are wide (so wide) as they dart from one cup to another. “Daniel? Daniel!”

Addy cuts herself on broken porcelain and flinches. She–she’d killed him, she’d been so thoughtless, how could she? “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

“I’m okay,” a little voice says. “I’m okay, Mom!”

 Addy sobs as she locates him under the silver platter, on his side, trapped. She throws the platter too hard, lodging it in the wall, and takes Daniel in her paws.  

“It’s okay, Princess Addy,” Daniel chirps at her. He’s a little older than her, just a few years, and he’s always trying to be strong. His eyes are wide (too wide), but he offers her a tremulous smile. “I’m okay.”

“Thank goodness,” Mrs. Potts says and her china clinks as she hops forward. 

Addy’s eyes lock on the horrible, huge chip in his rim. 

I did that.

She’s across the room before being aware of setting Daniel down, of standing, of leaping away.

“Princess,” Mrs. Potts says from her low, low position on the floor. “What–”

“Don’t call me that,” Addy grits out. Her huge body leans heavily against the door, making it groan, as she desperately tries to wrap her paw around the handle. She can’t stop looking at the chip, the proof of harm, the proof that something much worse can happen so easily. “Don’t call me– I’m not–I’m not the Princess. I’m the Beast.”

The door crashes open and she disappears.


It’s weeks before the servants realize that she’s never going to answer to her name again. She no longer sleeps in her princess bed or attempts to wear her princess clothes. She wears pants scavenged from the servants’ quarters, tunics from her father’s closet, ties her mane back with twine instead of ornaments.

“Addy!” they call. “Princess Addy!”

The Beast doesn’t even know who that is.

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Transference (M) – Chapter 03

cr. [X]

Summary: You and Hoseok discuss your homework assignment, and your sessions together take a spicy turn.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst

Word Count: 8,370

Warning: Tantric!Hoseok, therapist/client relationship, sexual themes, BDSM, shibari, dom/sub roleplay, profanity.

A/N: Prepare yourself, this is the shibari chapter. Shibari practice comes with many risks, so always consult professionals before playing.

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

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anonymous asked:

Can you do one where the team catch the reader and Steve making out in the kitchen so they tease them about it when they're training later? Then Steve gets tired of it so he grabs and kisses the reader in front of everyone to stun them and shut them up? Sorry if that doesn't make sense

warnings: sex mentions, kissing

Steve’s hands gripped your hips as his mouth moved over yours, picking you up and gently resting you back down in one swift motion so you were sat on the countertop. One of his hands darted to cup your face, the other trailed up to your waist, arching your back into him. You slid your arms around his neck, settling your fingers in the short hair on the back of his head.

The kisses were fervent and loving, as well as passionate and rough, and as your hand slipped underneath his loose t-shirt, your fingertips grazing over his muscular torso, you heard someone in the doorway, loudly clearing their throat.

You and Steve both suddenly pulled away from each other, looking in the direction of the noise. Sam, Bucky, Nat, and Wanda were all standing there with smug looks on their faces.

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Midnight Cinderella Suitor’s Fashions

@aquisces-arts wanted to see what the suitors would look like in modern clothes, so I did my best conceptualizing what each would wear and why.

Let’s start with King Byron:

Byron dresses very monochromatically– wearing different shades of black head to toe, and choosing gold accents that catch the light. 

If you look at his hair, you can see that his wisps are very controlled. Even his cowlick is styled neatly. He would probably use a light pomade. The details on the jeans give texture without distraction, like his black casual shirt in the game. 

The gold zipper on the knees also satisfies his love of gold hardware. If you notice, Byron does not wear jewelry aside from his earring, which he shares with Nico, so I think a planetary key chain would be a good choice for him, as it combines his star-gazing hobby with an outlet for an accessory.

Of course, a Rolex is a must, and I think he would always give himself a chaste spritz of cologne before stepping out of the door. This scent is unisex and has a dry-down that smells of vanilla, woods and leather.

I don’t think he would shy away from stylish shoes– he may even be a subtle trend-setter. Because Byron can hold his liquor with the best of them, and because he doesn’t tend to let himself get too casual out in the open, I thought martini glass novelty socks would be a fun twist. It would be his own little secret. While it may not be that wild of a thing for the rest of us, considering Byron’s aloof personality, he may feel that it really is daring indeed.

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Black Coffee And Bad Pickup Lines; Chapter 2

Chapter 2: It Didn’t Mean Anything!

Moana ran down the high street a flustered mess. Before reaching her shop, she ducked into the small alley that ran down the side. She liked to think that, to any onlookers, she was a sophisticated young woman whom was simply late for work and was therefore ‘speed walking’. As she pressed herself up against the wall, however, Moana knew the cold truth; her hair was everywhere, her cheeks were flushed (from the running or the incident in the coffee shop, or maybe both, she wasn’t entirely sure) and- wait, was she sweating?

The hard, uneven brick wall digging into her back seemed to calm her, and Moana slowly exhaled the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. The coffee cup had been pressed up against her chest as she ran, cradled preciously in both hands. Eyeing it cautiously, she took a hesitant sip. Shit, it was good. Now she couldn’t use what she hoped would’ve been bad coffee as an excuse to never, EVER step foot in Lalotai again… or was it an excuse for her to return?

Moana shook off that train of thought before it left the metaphorical station. Her lunch break was almost over- she didn’t have time to get all worked up over infuriating baristas and their infuriating smirks. She collected herself before turning into the street, falling into step with the mob of people as if she hadn’t just been wildly hyperventilating in an alley.

Pushing through the set of glass double doors, Moana skirted around any customers and made her way back to the counter under the neon pink PLEASE PAY HERE sign. Fi gave her a smile upon her arrival, and she returned it easily, a comfortable silence washing over them as they worked the cash registers side by side. The rest of the day passed simply enough, but, even as she served countless clients, he was never far from her mind. Her brain was plagued by rolled up sleeves and spiralling tattoos, and sparkling eyes and brash laughs, a smooth overconfident voice swirling around in her head amidst the whirlpool of confusion and annoyance. But the end of her shift came sooner than expected. Moana reached out for her coffee, but the lightness of the cup revealed that there was none left. Frowning slightly, she moved to put it in the bin but-

Something kept her fingers clasped around the cardboard, her arm hovering above the trash awkwardly, unable to let go. Moana sucked in a breath, eyebrows furrowed, because why did she hesitate?

“Mo? …What’re you doing?” Moana snapped her head to her side to see Fi watching her suspiciously. Her forest green eyes flickered between Moana and the cup. Instinctively, she stretched her fingers over the writing, but they were too goddamn short. Her lofty co-worker’s eyes, like a freaking hawk, honed in on her stubby fingers pathetically trying to cover the black scrawl.  Fi made a small inquisitive sound and suddenly made a dart for the cup. Moana squealed, backing up quickly and tripping over a discarded cardboard box. She landed clumsily on her rear- and ohhhhhh man was that gonna hurt in the morning. She groaned slightly to herself as Fi triumphantly plucked the cup from her hands and squinted at the sharpie-marker imprinted on the side.

“Mo… is this.. is this a pickup line?”  

Moana sat up quickly, her face burning, “Wha- is that a pickup line?! Hahaaa whaaaat? I- cause I was- I didn’t- it’s not- erm,”

Fi chucked the cup half heartedly back to Moana, folding her arms across her chest and smirking down at her. She seemed all of a sudden so much taller than before, “That looks like a pickup line to me,”

“Well… I- ah- it might be?”

Fi grinned and sat down on the floor in front of her, still managing to make the action look effortlessly graceful as always, “Soooo… who’s the lucky guy?”

Lucky guy- Fi, it’s just a pickup line, we’re not getting married-,”

“Shut up and tell me about him,” she fixed Moana with a knowing look, and cut her off when she opened her mouth to retaliate, “And don’t you tell me it didn’t mean anything, because if it didn’t you wouldn’t have found it so hard to throw it away,”

Moana sighed. “Fine. He was exasperating, I’ve never met someone who I’ve took such an instant dislike to- don’t give me that look, I’m serious. He was annoying as all hell, I mean… he probably just wrote that to irritate me,”

Fi stared at her with an unreadable expression for a few beats, before picking herself up off the floor and patting Moana on the head patronisingly, “Bet you you’re back there within a week,”

“Wha- Fi- it didn’t mean anything!” Moana called after the tall brunette, but she was already on her way out. Speaking of leaving, she should probably think of heading out before the rush hour traffic. She hauled herself off the floor and flung the cup into the trash can in annoyance. She fetched her bag and coat from the back room and strutted towards the doors, but paused as her hand folded around the handle.

Moana snatched the cup out of the trash, tucking it into her bag before she left.

A/N: Wow… for my first proper fic, the reaction I’ve received from this has been amazing, thank you guys so much! Your comments make my week! I’m so glad you’ve took the time to read my story and enjoy it, so thank you all so much. ALSO, earlier today I saw that @debby-san has actually drawn some AMAZING fanart of Barista Maui, and it is seriously the coolest- go check it out, because everything about him is just as I’d imagined, right down to the freaking Lalotai lighting! Just a little filler for the moment, next chapter I PROMISE there WILL be some more Moaui.

My experience with on and off set ppl

I wanted to do something. Here is something. Maybe she’ll see this, maybe she won’t, it’s for fun.

Actual quest AU - @thebbros

On and off set - @thebbros-studios-on-and-off-set


Me: …Oh, hi-

Cup: WELL SEE YA!!!! *Sprints off with dart gun shooting random cast and crew members*

(Number of curses in background with Cup chasing Snow)

Me: Wow.

(Boris and Bendy also joins in chasing Snow shooting her with darts)


Cup: Hey, MC’s just as short as Bendy!

Mug: Bendy, you have someone to accompany you as a midget.

Bendy: I welcome her to the corner. Wait, what did you call me-

MC: …I’m younger than him.

Cup: Wait wait wait…*measures their height* *compares* MC’s taller than Bendy!

Bendy: *Proceeds to corner* You are no longer allowed in.


Me: Hi Miss Rouge. It’s nice to meet you. I like your works~

Director Rouge: *Chasing after Cup again*


Me: (doesn’t know whether to laugh or feel awkward)


Me: *Spots Cendy fans hiding while staring at same direction fangirling or something like that* … *Looks at direction* *Sees Cup and Bendy sleeping together* … *Takes picture* *Walks away* 


anonymous asked:

In the collage au mccree shoots hanzo with a nerf gun and genji has to restrain hanzo so mccree can escape with his life because hanzo got a knife

Jesse hits Hanzo right between the eyes with a suction cup dart and it just. Sticks there and Jesse and Hanzo are staring at each other in shock

Hanzo almost breaks down the bathroom door where Jesse is hiding. Genji is crying from laughing

Razorblades And Lemon juice (pt. 5)

“Did you send them after me?”

Negan grimaced before shaking his head “no…I may be able to control the dead princess, but I can’t control the living”.

“But you wanted it to happen?” you whispered keeping your gaze firmly on the cup in your hands. He growled softly “I wanted you to understand tha…”

“you’re not a monster…I know”

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anonymous asked:

May I request the reactions of the drv3 girls after their s/o accidentally grabs their boobs?? I'm sorry if its nsfw-ish.. Do it if possible, feel free to ignore if you don't want to. I also must say that your blog is the best!! Keep up the good work and have a nice day :D <3

Hahahaha aw don’t worry about it! It’s not under the cut because it’s not explicit, and I’ve kinda been in this situation before (as the S/O not the receiver) … That was uhm yea embarrassing… but thank you!! You’re so kind :D

DRV3 Girls & S/O accidental boob grab

Kaede Akamatsu

  • She had her back to you
  • Playing the piano
  • And you’d wanted to be cute and give her a hug from behind
  • Your arms went under hers and round and
  • Oh
  • She was bright red
  • Not that you could see
  • You quickly removed your arms and stuttered an apology
  • “I… I wanted to give you a hug…”
  • She’s turned to face you and still blushing
  • “I-It’s okay Y/N,”
  • She extended her arms to pull you into her own hug

Angie Yonaga

  • Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?!
  • She looked down
  • There were hands on her boobs
  • You’re stuttering an apology
  • She pats your hands and grins
  • “Awwwww Y/N~ Don’t worry~ Angie and God forgive you!”
  • She just pulls your hands away from her
  • Then waits a moment
  • And darts behind you and cups your ass
  • “Now Angie and Y/N are even!”

Maki Harukawa

  • She’s gritting her teeth
  • You had hugged her over her shoulders so your arms were falling down forward over her boobs
  • She just kinda
  • Stopped
  • And turned to look at you
  • You slowly removed yourself
  • She took a second
  • You thought she was going to lose the plot with you
  • You kinda waited
  • Then she turned around and looked at you
  • And just placed her hands on your boobs
  • Then shrugs and continues whatever she was doing

Himiko Yumeno

  • She was asleep
  • And you were too
  • And you’d kinda clawed your way up her body
  • Your hands had found something firm to grab
  • Then it took you both a moment to realise what was happening
  • Though she was still asleep
  • So she just put her hands on top of yours
  • And then squeezed them
  • You’re the one left speechless and she goes back to sleep

Tsumugi Shirogane

  • “I-I-I-I-I…”
  • Tsumugi.exe has stopped working
  • You’re both bright red
  • She’s mumbling things
  • You’ve put a million thoughts in her head
  • She then just goes quiet
  • Into her own thoughts
  • You’re stood watching her
  • In silence
  • While you wanna crawl into a hole
  • (Bc of embarrassment)
  • And then walks away and beckons you after her
  • …?

Tenko Chabashira

  • She’s ready to lose her shit on you
  • But then she sees it’s you
  • And you’re embarrassed af and cuddling your hands to your chest
  • Plz don’t hulk out on me
  • Plz
  • Then she’s grinning
  • And taking your hands
  • And putting them back on her boobs
  • “They’re pretty good ain’t they Y/N?”

Kirumi Tojo

  • She was cleaning
  • And then suddenly
  • Your hands were there
  • “Uh…Uh… Y/N…?”
  • Silence
  • From both of you
  • Really awkward
  • She just kinda laughs lightly and helps you remove your hands
  • Kisses them
  • And then goes back to cleaning another room
  • So she can hide her embarrassment

Miu Iruma

  • Squeals
  • Stutters
  • Mumbles
  • Is bright red
  • Has her eyes closed so she doesn’t know it’s you
  • But when she opens her eyes
  • Then she’s smirking
  • You removed your hands
  • But hers are now on your boobs
  • Under your shirt
  • She’s just laughing and removes them just as quickly
  • “Why don’t you get revenge Y/N?”
  • ;)
Demon Hunters

Title: Demon Hunters

Characters/Pairing: Dean x Reader, random carnival guy

Word Count:  1 500

Reader Gender: Female

Warnings: I don’t think so? It’s just fluffy! With a mildly rude carnival worker.

Summary: Dean and the reader go to a fair! This story has Dean’s shooting prowess, a big pink teddy bear, “are you cold?” jacket transfers and kisses on top of a Ferris Wheel, really all required cute couple at a fair things!

Author’s Note: Okay! This, again, was not a request, but I had an idea for Dean winning the reader a prize at a fair, then I found a gif of a Ferris Wheel and wanted that in the story, and ta-da you’ve got a cute fair one shot for your reading pleasure! And don’t ask me where the “don’t let me fall” thing came from, it was just kind of there and I left it, even if it doesn’t quite make sense … :D   –xoxo Katie

If you would like to read any of my other fics please check out my Masterlist!

*Gif is not mine, all gifs used on my blog are from Google Images.*

     The cool fall breeze brushed your skin as you walked between the tightly packed rows of vendors, your gloved fingers intertwined with Dean’s and leaves crunching softly under your boots. You scanned booth after booth, passing most, pausing at some simply because the person running it wouldn’t let you pass until they’d told you the “special deal just for you”, and you and Dean were just about to move on to another part of the fair when your eye caught on a small black stall at the end of the row. You pulled on Dean’s hand and dragged him towards the booth, your smile growing as you neared your target and confirmed the sign said what you thought it did, the dripping red letters popping off the black. Demon Hunters.

     You walked up to the vendor with an amused grin, listening as he asked passers-by if they “have what it takes to be a demon hunter”. You heard Dean scoff beside you.

     “What about you, Missy?” the man running the booth said. He was wearing all black as if to blend in with his setup and had fake blood smeared on his hands and face - like the cut-out demons inside had actually put up a fight. You bit back on a snort of laughter. Dean did not. “Do you think you have what it takes to hunt demons?” the man asked. “Or maybe your boyfriend thinks he can slay the King.” He pointed behind him to a particularly angry looking Demon in the middle of his other targets, this one with fangs and a tiny black crown on his head, and set a good 10 feet behind all the others – not that the cut-out lackeys were very close either. It was clearly supposed to be impossible to win.

     You turned and smiled knowingly at Dean, tugging on his arm as if to convince him. “Please, babe,” you asked, no doubt in your mind that he would do it - even if only to wipe the smug look off the carnival worker’s face. “I know you can do it!”

     You and Dean smiled at each other, both of you knowing full well that this game wouldn’t provide even the slightest challenge for either of you, and you suppressed a laugh when Dean threw his hands up and said, “Alright, I’ll give it a try.” You saw the carnie smirk out of the corner of your eye and you pressed your lips together to hide your own. It would be more fun this way.

     “Okay, Sir, step right up,” the man said. You let go of Dean’s hand somewhat reluctantly and watched as he was given a plastic gun, one that shot foam darts if the broken ones littering the ground were any indication. “Now, all you have to do is hit one of those demons,” he pointed to the tiny, red-skinned monsters inside the booth, “and you win a prize for the lovely lady. If you hit the King, you can take one of the big ones at the top.”

     Your eyes followed where the man was pointing and you mentally picked out the stuffed animal you wanted from the high up display, knowing this wasn’t going to take more than one shot.

     The man took a step forward and clapped Dean on the back, making you cringe as his blood stained hand made contact with your boyfriend’s jacket. “Now, don’t worry if you don’t get it on the first shot,” the man said, “you can always try again.”

     You fought your laugh as Dean looked at you and raised his eyebrows, then turned back to the targets and lined up his shot, aiming right at the King. The vendor’s jaw barely had time to fall open before there was a foam dart suction-cupped to the little demon monarch’s head.

     Your voice rang through the air as you squealed and ran up to Dean, acting as surprised as you could while you threw your arms around his neck. Dean dropped the gun on the little counter in front of him and pulled you against him. The man running the booth just stared.

     “Yes, well … good shot,” the man said, reluctantly walking towards the prizes. You noticed that the top row was completely filled, not a single stuffed animal missing. You made no move to hide your pride in your boyfriend. But even you had to admit that you were impressed he got it on the first try - even if your little show was greatly exaggerated - because well Dean was an excellent shot, shooting a foam dart on a windy day out of a plastic gun was nothing like firing a real bullet. You held your head a little higher.

     “Congratulations,” the vendor said, a small tinge of anger in his voice, “you have what it takes to be a demon hunter. You may choose your prize.”

     Dean looked down at your face and pulled you in a little closer. “What do you want, Sweetheart?”

     You grinned and pointed to the biggest prize there was, a large pink teddy bear that was taller than you. Dean laughed as the vendor grumbled something about it not being that good of a shot anyway and pulled down your new stuffed friend. You knew it would probably end up in some storage room in the bunker - since it was too big to actually keep in the room you and Dean shared - but you couldn’t care less as you peeled yourself off Dean’s side and took your prize.

     After you’d left the booth behind and had begun walking through the crowds of fair-goers once again, Dean stopped you and reached for your bear. “Here, let me carry it,” he said, taking the pink giant from your arms. “You’re too short to hold this thing, it’s gonna end up in the dirt.”

     You smiled as Dean somehow managed to get the bear under one arm and take your hand with the other. “You’re not embarrassed to carry a giant pink bear?” you asked, using your free hand to wrap around the arm that was tethering him to you.

     Dean chuckled. “Nah, how can I be when I have a beautiful woman like you on my arm? … Even if there is a giant pink bear under the other.” You laughed and put your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder, making you bob slightly with every step he took. “Hey, do you wanna ride the Ferris Wheel?” Dean asked after a while, stopping a few feet away from the entrance to the ride.

     You eyed the towering metal ring in front of you and followed it up, up ,up, bending your head all the way back to find the top. “I don’t know, it’s kind of high.” You shoot Dean a sweet smile. “You promise you won’t let me fall?”

     He kissed the top of your head and started pulling you towards the Ferris Wheel. “I would never.”

     You and Dean gave the teenager running the ride a few of the tickets you’d bought upon entrance to the fair and left your bear on the platform at the bottom, trying you best to pick a clean spot. Then once the next available basket came around you and Dean climbed in and rode it all the way to the top, his arm firmly wrapped around you the whole time.

    “Are you cold?” Dean asked, no doubt feeling you shiver against his body as the cold air at the top of the Ferris Wheel nipped at your exposed skin. You were about to protest when Dean pulled away from you just enough to remove his leather jacket and put it around your shoulders, then rub his hands up and down your arms as he tucked you into his side once again.

     You snuggled down into the warm coat and happily lay your cheek on his firm chest, watching the flashing lights of the fair beneath you glow in rainbow colors against the black night. “I love you,” you whispered, you voice almost getting swallowed up by the wind.

     Dean gently pressed his finger to you chin, urging you to look up at him while he said, “I love you, too.”

     You smiled and sat up enough for your lips to reach Dean’s, your eyes fluttering shut when they made contact. Dean quickly brought his hand into your hair and nudged you closer, if that was even possible, making you suppress a moan as you became all too aware of the people above and below you in the other baskets. But then, before you had a chance to think about it anymore, the Ferris Wheel surged to life around you and jerked you and Dean apart. It almost made you knock teeth, but luckily Dean caught you before that happened.

     Then with that, you looked at your boyfriend and started laughing, once again pressing yourself into his side for the rocky ride back down.

Tags under the cut!

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anonymous asked:

#35 Kiribaku with lee Bakugou B)

Anonymous said:69 with kiribaku?? 😏

i’m combing these two bcuz i feel like they go really well together ahhhh

35. “I’m fucking terrified and I don’t know what to do or how to stop feeling that way, okay? I’m scared…” 69. “I don’t think I could love you anymore than I already do.” 

Even though Bakugou never really watches those disgusting western romantic comedies, his mother is obsessed with them, so Bakugou usually is always tormented with hearing it from his place up in his room. He knows enough about what goes on in those films, the recurring themes of love and lust and passion. 

Though, he never would’ve thought those recurring themes would ever happen to him

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Every Life has a Moment ~Olicity Fic 2/5

So this has become a five chapter piece that sort of reminds me of the movie “One Day” because it’s being told from that sort of perspective. Thank you for all the encouraging words I greatly appreciated it! @supersillyanddorky06 this was only possible because you told me to simply go for it! Thank you! 

Warning: Some explicit (for me) content so you’ve been warned. 

Read it here or on AO3: Part 1; Part 2

Chapter 2

1 year later…

Felicity gazed out her third story bedroom window and watched as the snow began to slowly fill the sidewalks of the streets below. She curled her legs into her chest and brushed her fingers over her old, favorite sweatpants. Her half empty cup of coffee was still steaming beside her on the couch side table, her blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and her glasses were resting over the bridge of her nose. She sighed to the empty the room, “I miss him…” and smirked when the howling wind made the walls of her aging building creak. 

She could almost hear them chanting, “Call him, call him, call him,” as she stared wordlessly out the slightly fogged over glass. Her phone laid at her side innocently as her nimble fingers traced slowly over the small keyboard keys. Her thumb was over the call button when it buzzed beneath her startled touch. Her eyes shot downward swiftly as her lips curled into a giddy smile. She pressed the speaker button and laughed happily once his voice was bouncing off her empty walls. 

“So….quick question,” he started like she was about to make a deal with the devil. 

Felicity’s patented eye roll came before her practiced line, “Okay hotshot how long is this home invasion for?” 

She heard him chewing at his cheek as he muttered lowly, “Ummmm a week?” 

“You and Laurel bickering again I take it?” she asked almost out of habit. 

He too gave a patented reply, “Yes and before you say it no I’m going to make this break up stick.” 

She nodded wordlessly then breathed, “I assume you’re outside my door?” 

She heard the cylinder of her locks moving before he’d managed to mumble out a simple response. Felicity ended the call and glanced eagerly over her left shoulder. There he stood with small, melting flakes of snow littered over his dark brown leather coat. Felicity cocked her head when he began brushing the droplets of water onto her dark, hardwood floors. “Ummm dear what are you doing?” she asked with a bit of a screech to her voice. 

Oliver winked slyly as he pulled a small suitcase in behind him, “Dear is a new one honey…” 

Felicity immediately scowled, “I thought we banned those particular nicknames after that night in my dorm room?” 

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Ice Skates | Johnny scenario

Word Count: 446

Genre: Fluff

Aesthetics: Cool breezes, cute possession, cheesy pickup lines, swishing of ice skates

“Look! Look!” You squealed, trying not to flail.

You were balanced precariously on your ice skates, finally fully upright for the first time in ten minutes.

Johnny easily skated over, clapping. “Nice, jagiya!”

Hugging the wall, you reached for him, squealing when you almost fell over. He caught your hands, helping you stay upright.

“C'mon~! Yeah, just like that!” He said encouragingly.

He skated backwards, unintentionally showing off his skill as he taught you to ice skate.

After a while, you said while shivering, “I’m cold, should we get some hot chocolate?”

“Could I go around a couple times and then join you?” He proposed, running his fingers through his hair.

“Sure!” You nodded, then wobbled your way off the rink.

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100 things that Robin (Dick Grayson) is no longer allowed to do:
  1. Not allowed to watch TV while on patrol.
  2. Not even if it’s a slow night.
  3. My proper title in the field is “Robin” not “The Fun One,” “The Guy With a Sense of Humor,” “Smart and Handsome,” “Fashionista,” “Sexy Pants,” “Robin’ Your Heart,” or anything but “Robin.”
  4. Not allowed to threaten anyone with “Romany magic.”
  5. Not allowed to challenge anyone’s disbelief in said magic by asking for personal items.
  6. Not allowed to get any body altering-surgeries, except if absolutely necessary for preservation of life.
    6a) “Necessary for preservation of life” applies only when judged to be so by an adult authority figure.
  7. Captain Marvel does not qualify as an adult authority figure.
  8. Not allowed to play “assassin” with a suction-cup dart pistol and any member of the GPCD or JLA.
  9. Not allowed to add classmates I dislike to the Bat-Computer villain database.
    9a) Not even if they’re bullies.
  10. Not allowed to print “Batman-approved” stickers and sell them to supplement my allowance.
    10a) Not allowed to print “Bat-approved” stickers and sell them to supplement my allowance.
    10b) Not allowed to print “Robin-approved” stickers and sell them to supplement my allowance.
    10c) Not even if I do approve the product.
    10d) Not allowed to print stickers.
  11. Not allowed to monetize my crime-fighting persona in any way, shape, or form.
  12. Not allowed out of my bedroom when President Luthor visited Gotham.
  13. God may not contradict any of my orders.
    13a) No deity may contradict any of my orders.
    13b) No mythical creature may contradict any of my orders.
  14. May no longer perform my “Bobbin’ Robin Dance” while in uniform.
    14a) May no longer perform my “Bobbin’ Robin Dance.”
  15. May not call any member of the GCPD or JLA unflattering names, even if I’m right.
    15a) Exceptions may be made for Green Lantern Hal Jordan.
  16. Must not taunt extra-terrestrials any more.
  17. Must attempt not to antagonize extra-terrestrial ambassadors.
  18. Must never ask Batman if he’s been smoking crack.
    18a) Due to the very real possibility of an unknowingly drugged Batman, however, I may run blood tests at my discretion.
    18b) “At my discretion” does not mean whenever I’m ticked off at Batman.
    18c) I am not permitted to run a blood test without the knowledge, approval, and cooperation of Alfred or an adult member of the JLA.
    18d) Green Lantern Hal Jordan’s knowledge, approval, and cooperation is not sufficient in order to run a blood test.
  19. Not allowed to train stray dogs to follow Batman and Robin.
  20. I do not have “Samson-like powers” and for as long as I live under Bruce Wayne’s roof I am required to keep my hair cut to a reasonable length.
    20a) Alfred Pennyworth is the sole judge of what constitutes “a reasonable length.”
  21. Must not tell any member of the GCPD or JLA that I am smarter than they are, especially if it’s true.
    21a) Exceptions may be made for Green Lantern Hal Jordan.
  22. Must never confuse rational extraterrestrials with extraterrestrial plants, animals, or rock formations.
  23. Never tell Martian Manhunter that “We’re gonna conquer Mars!”
  24. Don’t tell alien abduction jokes in front of extraterrestrial members of the JLA, even if they’re really funny.
  25.  Never take the batteries out of Alfred’s alarm clock (Even if I want to sleep in on the weekend).
  26. The Green Lanterns, Green Arrow, and Martian Manhunter are not “After me frosted lucky charms.”
  27. Not allowed to wake my teammates by repeatedly banging on the head with a bag of trash. If I do I deserve whatever I get.
  28. Not allowed to let sock puppets take responsibility for any of my actions.
    28a) Not allowed to delegate any of my responsibilities to sock puppets.
  29. Not allowed to chew gum on patrol.
    29a) Not allowed to chew gum in bed.
    29b) Not allowed to chew gum.
  30.  Can’t have flashbacks to wars I was not in.
  31. It’s “Dr. Thompkins,” not “Dr. Feelgood.”
  32. Not allowed to ask for the day off on the basis that the world is going to end.
    32a) Not even if the world is going to end.
  33. I do not have super-powers.
    33a) I do not need to inform criminals that I do not have super-powers.
  34. Motivational posters are not allowed in the Bat-cave.
  35. Face paint is not a mask.
  36. I am not authorized to officiate a wedding.
  37. I am not authorized to fire members of the GCPD or JLA.
  38. I am not authorized to fire Batman.
  39. Not allowed to trade Bat equipment for “magic beans.”
  40. Not allowed to sell magic beans while on patrol.
    40a) Not allowed to sell magic beans.
  41. May not make posters depicting the failings of any adult authority figure in my life.
    41a) Exceptions may be made for Green Lantern Hal Jordan.
  42. Batman’s decisions do not need to be ratified by a ¾ majority.
  43. Evil clowns are not a joke and I will not tell Batman or Alfred that there is one under my bed unless there is actually an evil clown under my bed.
  44. There is no “Anti-Mime campaign” and I do not need to paint my face in solidarity.
  45. I may not wear a tinfoil hat while on patrol unless informed otherwise.
  46. I am not authorized to prescribe medication.
  47. I may not trade Batman, Alfred, or any member of the JLA or GCPD to any foreign entity.
    47a) Extraterrestrials qualify as a foreign entity.
  48. I may not file for excused absences with my school on the grounds that “I was kicking serious bad-guy butt.” Even though it’s true.
  49. The bottom half of my Robin uniform is not optional.
    49a) The top half of my Robin uniform is not optional.
    49b) No part of my Robin uniform is optional. I picked it out, I have to wear it.
  50. Not allowed to quote Dr. Seuss to Martian Manhunter as “The greatest earth poet ever to live.”
  51. Not allowed to ask extraterrestrial members of the JLA about the “Giant Space Ants.”
  52. I am not to take orders from the “Giant Space Ants.”
  53. I am not the “Bad cop.”
  54. I am not allowed to steal any component of Batman’s uniform with the express purpose of mocking him.
    54a) I am not allowed to steal any component of any JLA member’s uniform with the express purpose of mocking him or her.
    54b) Exceptions may be made for Green Lantern Hal Jordan. 
  55. I am not allowed to take any Bat equipment to school for show-and-tell.
  56. The bats in the Bat-cave are wild animals, not pets, and I must not try to train any of them to perch on my finger.
  57. The bats in the Bat-cave belong in the Bat cave, not in the living room, not in any of the bedrooms, and absolutely not in the pantry or kitchen.
  58. I cannot arrest children for being rude.
    58a) I cannot arrest adults for being rude.
    58b) Being rude is not a punishable offence.
  59. I am neither the king, queen, princess, prince, duke, duchess, baron, baroness, lord, or lady of cheese and may not exact levies, tolls, or taxes on anyone who wishes to eat cheese.
  60. If I ever put a potato in the Bat-mobile’s exhaust pipes again I will lose all front-seat privileges for the rest of my life.
  61. May not refer to Alfred as “Mom.”
  62. May not form any press gangs.
  63. May not switch the coffee out for decaf. Ever.
  64. May not challenge members of the GCPD or JLA to “the field of honor." Especially not the metahumans.
  65. I may not attempt "Something I saw in my cartoons last Saturday.”
  66. I may not inform reporters that Bruce Wayne is actually Superman.
    66a) I may not inform reporters that Alfred is actually Batman.
  67. Crucifixes, garlic, and silver do not ward off Batman and I should not test that theory.
  68. “To kick bad-guy butt while wearing a ridiculous outfit” is a bad long-term goal to give my school counselor. Even though it’s true.
  69. Must not take out the Bat-mobile with the express purpose of “squishing” things.
  70. I must not confess to crimes that took place before I was born.
  71. I do not get “That time of month” and I am not given time off for “Aunt Flo’s visit.”
  72. Not allowed to taunt Commissioner Gordon with cigarettes when he’s trying to quit smoking.
  73. Not allowed to use “It’s okay, my guardian’s rich” as an excuse for anything.
  74. If the idea of something makes me laugh for an extended period of time it is safe to assume that I am not permitted to do it.
  75. Must not mock Batman in front of the press.
  76. I am not allowed to preface the disclosure of any previously sustained injury with “Hey, watch this!”
  77. The chandeliers in the manor are off limits. No exceptions.
  78.  "Give it a few weeks" is not an appropriate response to the news of a JLA member’s death.
    78a) Not even if I turn out to be correct afterwards.
  79. I am not permitted to send written applications for the position of “Sidekick” to any other superhero. 
  80. Being grounded does not qualify me as a hostage and I shall not call the police.
  81. His name is Penny-one in the field, not “Bat-butler.”
  82. I am not to use a broadsword in an attempt to disprove “The pen is mightier than the sword.”
  83. Alfred is not old enough to have fought in the War for American Independence and I should stop implying that he did.
  84. Any song with a verse past number four must never be sung ever again.
    84a) Every line of “99 bottles of beer on the wall” counts as one verse.
  85. Putting candy into a prescription bottle and then downing them all at one go in full sight of an adult authority figure is not funny and I will be given an emetic every time I do so.
  86. Potentially dangerous substances belong in the Bat-cave, not in my bedroom.
  87. I am to sleep in my bed, not on the canopy, under the mattress, on the floor, or anywhere else in the bedroom.
  88. If I become hungry on patrol I may ask for a protein bar from Batman: I may not go “Trick-or-treating,” begging, or ask for payment from any citizen in the form of food.
  89. It is not okay to hide in the morgue in order to scare the medical examiner.
  90.  Video games are not training exercises.
  91. I do not need “a more suitable host body.”
  92. I am not to label things in the Bat-cave any more.
  93. The phrase “Holy ____, Batman” is only permitted once per night.
  94. “I’m drunk” is a bad response to any question posed to me by the press. I am not drunk, and saying otherwise is a good way to get the CPS to show up.
  95. The JLA comm link is not a forum on which for me to voice my opinions.
  96. Putting out advertisements for a ‘replacement Batman’ is not an acceptable way to vent frustrations.
  97. I am not permitted to form a “Robin fan-club” and request funding from Bruce Wayne for the same.
  98.  I am not permitted to steal JLA equipment in order to pass it off as my science fair project for school. If I left my project until the last minute it is then my duty to make a crappy baking-soda-and-vinegar volcano and take the ‘C’.
  99. When Batman engages a suspect, fetching popcorn is not the appropriate response.
  100. I am not to call the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement on extraterrestrial members of the JLA.
Hanzo / Dart Game

Amusement park ask, here.

“It’s not polite–”

“You’re not polite!”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!“

“Y-you don’t…make any…” you start to say, but think better of it.

Okay, yeah. This is getting more than a little silly. You apologize under your breath for taking his turn, while you lower your hand, thumbing the decorative top part of the dart that you’re holding.

It’s only a carnival game (true). You don’t even want the prize (false). It’s just a game– or so you’ve told yourself a hundred times.

But dammit, does his dart have a magnetic tip or something? What the hell is with his ungodly accuracy!

“How about best two out of three? That way–” Hanzo begins, before he sees your eyes flicker with competitive gumption once more.

He almost didn’t even have to ask, as you throw him a look of preemptive triumph over your shoulder, and step up to booth. The attendee looks between the two of you with concern, but pockets your money all the same.

“Stupid ninjas with your stupid throwing skills,” you mumble, getting into position.

“Think you own the whole damn place,” you close one eye, convinced that it will help you concentrate better, focusing on the center of the target.

“Look at me: I throw shuriken around like they’re confetti!” your falsetto climbs higher as you mock Hanzo’s voice, pulling your arm back to take aim.

Chuckling, Hanzo slides himself closer to you, without a sound.

Just as you’re about to throw the dart, he cups your bum, giving you a little squeeze.

Your dart arcs through the air, traveling feebly toward the ground, nowhere near the target, and Hanzo trembles with laughter as you swat at him halfheartedly.

Seven Minutes In Heaven [Sehun]

Originally posted by awwsehun

Summary: In which you experience your first kiss during Seven Minutes in Heaven with the most popular boy in school, Sehun.

Word count: 2 004

Type: Fluff! :)

Member: Sehun from EXO

A/N: an anonnie requested this! I hope you precious baby stars will like this scenario because I sure do! I actually think it’s one of my favorite scenarios I’ve written so far. I hope you precious baby stars have a nice day and have a happy Monday! (Well, as happy as a Monday can get 😂💕) Happy reading! X


You knew this was a bad idea.

You knew this right from the start, from the moment your best friend, as well as roommate told you about the party that Sehun, the most popular and evidentially, the most handsome boy at your school was hosting this weekend that it was bad idea attending the party. You were starting with important exams the next week and you had to do all your revising this weekend, not attend some popular boy’s party but yet here you were, awkwardly sitting on a couch in the lounge while couples made out on the couch right next to you, sucking each other’s faces off and making you realize that you seriously didn’t want a boyfriend anytime soon if he was basically going to eat you whole at a party while intoxicated.

  You brought the notorious red cup up to your lips, drinking the liquid you assumed was Cola that happened to having a stinging sensation going down your throat when you drank it. You awkwardly toyed with the now empty cup, eyes darting from one place to another while you began to think of ways to get home and do some revision for your exams coming up.

“You actually showed up,”

You looked up from whatever direction of the house you looked in, your eyes landing on the host of the party himself, Sehun, dressed in all-black except for the white v-neck he wore that oh so greatly complimented his edgy and classic bad boy look of a black leather jacket, skinny ripped jeans and combat boots.

You would admit, the boy was rather handsome, with his defined features, tall height and charming nature that worked on just about everyone he tried it on, but unlike the girls at your school, you had morals and respect for yourself, not even daring to speak to Sehun while other girls flung themselves at the popular boy. With all those girls flinging themselves at him, it was hard for you to think he wasn’t a player, a trait you hated most, which was another reason why you had kept your distance from the popular boy.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t show up.” Sehun finished off his sentence, sending a charming smile your way, as well as his signature wink that made girls knees weak, but at this moment made you chuckle in amusement because he had the habit of slightly closing his other eye when he winked which would make it look as if he was blinking instead of winking.

“Well, you thought wrong.” You answered the boy with an amused smile, looking up at him to see him smiling down at you which you didn’t want to admit but made you really happy.

“Do you wanna hang out somewhere else? You know, where they aren’t annoying couples sucking each other’s faces off.” Sehun suggested to you with a cute hopeful smile, his offer amusing you once again as you smiled in amusement, placing the cup you held in your hand on the back of a guy that was hovering over his poor girlfriend as they feverishly made out on the couch, standing up from the couch and going on to follow behind Sehun, but that didn’t happen when you felt the boy gently grab your hand, the boy holding your hand in his as you both made your way within the crowd of sweaty and intoxicated students that were clearly having a great time.

  Blinded by the view of so many people drunk out of their minds while still having a good time, you didn’t notice that Sehun had leaded the two of you towards the basement of his house, the area less crowded with people than where you last were but still its fair share of people. Your attention was brought about upon your surroundings when you heard someone call out Sehun’s name.

Your head turned in the direction of the person who called his name, his equally handsome and popular best friend, Kai waving the both of you over towards where he sat in a circle with some of Sehun’s other friends, as well as some girls from your class. Sehun led the two of you to the circle, the both of you separating when you had to find places to sit, your hand suddenly feeling cold without his warm touch. You sat down right across the boy, witnessing him stare intensely at you, causing you to look down at the ground without thinking, feeling slightly self-conscious under his intense stare.

“Alright, now that we have everyone here, let’s start this game,” Baekhyun mentioned to everyone, spinning the beer bottle placed in the middle of the circle everyone made before the ends of the beer bottle ended up being pointed towards some girl named Seulgi in your class and one of Sehun’s friends that was just as tall as him, Chanyeol.

The pair both began to flush a cute pretty pink color in their cheeks, both of them standing up from their seats on the ground before they were laid into a small closet space nearby by Baekhyun, the door being closed behind them before Baekhyun said with a mischievous smile, “Your seven minutes start now, don’t get up to too much trouble.”

Your heart began to pick up its pace, almost feeling as if it would beat right against your rib cage and even beat out of your chest. They were playing Seven Minutes in Heaven and you were apart of the game. The only reason why you were nervous about this was that even at this stage of your life, you hadn’t had your first kiss yet and weren’t up for giving to someone who wasn’t someone you loved. You could of left, but Sehun was here and he was the only person that seemed to be willing to keep you company at this party unlike your best friend, so you decided to stay back and play the game, nerves beginning to make homes for themselves in your stomach.

Pair after pair stood up from their seats on the ground and walked into the dim closet space, spending seven minutes together doing who knows what before the door was opened the game continued. You wouldn’t lie, you grew more and more nervous as time ticked on, knowing that you were getting closer and closer to having your first kiss.

“Alright (Y/N), it’s your turn.” Baekhyn alerted you as Kai and some other guy from a different grade named Luhan exited out of the closet space, Kai awkwardly scratching the back of his neck while Luhan pretending as if nothing happened, even when it was clear something did happen when his pastel pink lips were swollen and Kai had a visible love bite.

You let out a nervous heave, keeping your eyes on the ground as you went ahead and turned the bottle, the bottle spinning so fast that you could have gotten sick by staring at it. Eventually, the bottle began to slow down, coming to a stop and pointing towards the person in which you would be spending your so-called ‘Seven Minutes in Heaven’ with.

You looked upwards, lips parting in slight surprise while your eyes widened just the slightest when they laid on Sehun. Sehun wore an emotionless look on his face, a look that you only known on the boy as you two stood up from your seats on the ground, stepping inside the closet space before the door had been shut, Baekhyun alerting you that your seven minutes started then.

All you could see was darkness and only smell the strong scent of Sehun’s cologne that you now began to grow fond of, his scent somewhat calming your nerves from rushing throughout your body.

“Seeing as we’re here all alone without any distractions, I might as well tell you,” Sehun informed you, his voice startling you at first because you hadn’t expected him to talk. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, thinking what he meant by whatever he said before you heard him confess, “I like you, (Y/N). And no, it’s not some petty crush that will blow over in a week’s time, it’s a life-longing feeling that I feel will ultimately turn into love. You’re extremely intellectual, charming and god damn sexy. I hope this confess doesn’t seem too lame to the point that you would deny my feelings because we both know you don’t like anything lame,”

You began to feel an intense blush surface onto the skin of your cheeks, sheepishly looking down at the ground and feeling your heart begin to race within your chest.

“Can I kiss you?”

You immediately looked upwards when you heard those words escape his lips, those words echoing throughout your mind that had gone blank the second those words were said to you. You blinked a few times, opening your mouth but finding that you had lost your voice after his confession. You rolled your eyes at your failed attempt to answer Sehun, trying again as Sehun heard a shy and low answer from you, “…Yes.”

Over the next few seconds you felt Sehun’s hand, the same one that held your hand moments ago being placed against your cheek, his thumb gently caressing the heated skin of your pink-tinted cheek. He stepped forwards, standing so close to you that you were breathing in his scent. You looked upwards, somewhat seeing the outline of his face from the light that shined within the cracks of the closet door before you admitted before his lips could touch yours, “This is my first kiss, Sehun.”

“You’re so innocent, (Y/N),” Sehun chuckled in amusement while you could only blush more, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it one you won’t forget.”

You felt his lips approaching yours, finally feeling the touch of lips against yours. His lips were soft, you thought to yourself. For a moment that didn’t last very long, your lips had just remained gently pressed against each other, your heart physically feeling as if it were just about to beat out of your chest before you felt Sehun’s lips begin to move against yours. Panicking, you simply mirrored what Sehun did with his lips, feeling as if your body had become weightless and the homes of the nerves that made a temporary home in your stomach exploded.

You moved your lips with his, the sounds of your lips moving with one another echoing throughout the closet space. Your hands had found their way to Sehun’s hair, your fingers running through the healthy and soft strands again and again, your actions seeming to please the boy when he hummed in satisfaction. You smiled against his lips, feeling him sweetly kiss the smile before he had pulled away, smiling smugly before saying to you, “For someone who just had just their first kiss, you sure do kiss great.”

“Shut up, Sehun.” You cried out in embarrassment, placing your head on Sehun’s chest and attempting to hide yourself within the warmth of his chest.

“Your seven minutes are up!”

You lifted your head off Sehun’s chest, turning to walk out the door but Sehun had caught your wrist, stopping you from walking further. As you went to question why he had stopped you, you felt him gently hold your hand in his, your fingers interlocking before he walked ahead of you, opening the door as he led the both of you out of the closet space.

You walked back towards the group that still sat within the circle they had made earlier that night, most of the people within that circle smirking at the two of you and your held hands, a blush decorating your cheeks as both you and Sehun sat back down, for a change sitting next to each other and holding hands for the rest of the night, later on thinking to yourself that maybe it wasn’t the worst idea to come to the party.


Our ask box is currently open, so feel free to request any reactions, scenarios, ships, snaps, texts and convo imagines! x

I love each and every one of you precious baby stars! x

XOXO Admin Tina :)xx

~ Masterlist

girib0yy  asked:

lee chan + 38 and 58 💖

38: “will you just accept that I am hopelessly in love with you, and there’s nothing you can do that will change that?”
58: “because I love you god damn it!”

Ew, look at ______.”
“I heard that ______ payed Chan to go out with them, what a loser.”
“What are they even wearing? What does Chan see in them?”

“_______?” Came a soft voice, disturbing the thoughts invading your brain. Softly you blinked, eyes refocusing on reality and looking up from your spot on the couch, seeing your boyfriend Lee Chan, walking through the door. A small, sad smile tugged on your lips as you stood up from the couch and walked over to him, “Hey.”

He took one look at your face and his smile disappeared completely, his hand darting out, cupping your face in his hands and looking at you with concern. “What’s wrong?”  He murmured, that look of seriousness making you feel unsettled and uncomfortable. Up until that moment, you didn’t even notice you had been crying, you didn’t even notice the tears rolling down your cheeks, you didn’t even notice the soaked pillow on the couch.

Quickly wiping the tears away, you gave him a bright smile, “Nothing! I’m fine!” You beamed, hoping he really couldn’t see right through you. You attempted to walk away so he couldn’t get anymore suspicious but was stopped when a hand grabbed onto your wrist, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall. Your breath quickened as an irritated look came across your boyfriends face, getting closer and closer.

“I’ve come home to see you crying for weeks now, do you know how much that hurts? What’s going on, _______?” He asked, his eyes pleading for you to tell him.
But you couldn’t, you just couldn’t.

You wriggled away from his grip and off of the wall, looking straight at him,“Chan, why are you with me?” You whispered. You could tell that you’re words had caught him off guard, he wasn’t expecting a question like that to come out of you.

“What kind of question is that I-”

“Why are you with me?” You asked again, a harsher tone coming out, you’re voice cracking, tears spilling out of your eyes,“Is it because you’re getting payed? Is it because you feel sorry for me? Is it because I’m the easiest person you could get your hands on? Because if it’s any of these, you’d better tell me right now. Those girls were right, I am ugly, I am stupid, you aren’t dating me because you feel anything towards me. Why aren’t you saying anything talk to m-!”

“It’s because I love you god damn it!” Chan snapped, causing you to shut up immediately. His eyes were filled with sadness and anger as those words left his lips,“I’m with you because I love you so freaking much! You need to stop thinking that I don’t because it’s not good for you, it’s not good for me, and it’s not good for us!” His voice got smaller and smaller as he got closer and closer to you. “Don’t listen to what anyone else has to say about us.” Closer. “Don’t listen to what those girls have to say about you.” Closer. “Don’t listen to anyone apart from me when it comes to what you and I feel towards each other.” Closer.

“Will you just accept that I’m hopelessly in love with you, and there’s nothing you can do to change that?” He whispered, his face inches from yours.

“I love you too.” You whispered back before your lips finally met.

send me a member and a number(s) for the drabble game!

two creams one sugar

title: two creams one sugar

words: 3000ish

pairing: Camsten (Kirsten/Cameron)

summary: She’s 100% sure that he’s picking the wrong names now just to get under her skin (there’s no way he can mistake “Kirsten” for “Pork Chop”), but dammit the little smirk he just sent her way when she read it has to be just about the most adorable thing in the world- wait, what?

for: Camsten Appreciation Day. sorry it’s late!

a/n: aka the coffee shop/college au that nobody asked for (the one that I mentioned here). trying my hand at some present tense writing. this entire fic is kinda sucky and pretty much everyone is OOC at some point. oh well.


Kirsten’s always been a fan of coffee- tea is too weak and not nearly flavorful enough for her, and there’s really not that many other ways to get an energy in the morning other than 5-Hour Energy. So, yeah, most mornings she’s not all that functional until she’s sipping at her precious drink- two creams, one sugar. It’s gotten her through too many late-night study sessions and essay writings, and now she might be a bit overly dependent on it, but it’s not like she really cares.

There’s this little cafe on Sepulveda, only a five minute walk from campus. It’s a hole-in-the-wall kind of place, with not all that many customers in total, but they’re all regulars. Kirsten is one of the only college students who frequents it- there are more than a few Starbucks’ on campus, after all, with lower prices and more space. But the Blue Door Coffeehouse is better in Kirsten’s opinion; their coffee is richer, and their ingredients and pastries are all homemade and organic. She’s willing to pay a few extra dollars if it means she gets a better breakfast, and that first sip of her regular drink makes it all worth it- it’s like energy burns it way down her throat, letting a warm, almost homey, feeling seep into her veins.

So, yeah, Kirsten takes her coffee very seriously, and as such, expects others to do the same.

Which is why that god-forsaken, annoying, smirking, antagonizing, absolute ass of a barista irritates her so much.

Cameron, his name tag reads. His name is Cameron and goddammit the sound that name should not be sending shivers down her spine (she plays it off as the needles of her pure hatred for him pricking her back. If someone heard her describe it, they’d know just as well as she does that that’s a lie.)

He’s just about the most irritating person she’s ever had the misfortune of meeting in her entire life. Not only is he learning to become a neuroscientist (an overly pretentious subject, in Kirsten’s opinion) and is at the top of pretty much all his classes, he acts like a smug bastard about it. She can’t even ask for her bagel with butter instead of cream cheese without him sneaking in a snide comment about his superior intelligence.

Not only that, but he is the worst at writing down the correct name on her to-go cups.

The first time she comes to the coffeehouse during his shift, they’re moderately polite to each other, although Kirsten does accidentally let a bit of snark out. Apparently, he must take offense at her slightly rude remark (seriously- what did he expect, she’s a college student and it’s an hour that ends in AM), because when her drink is ready, “Sparky” is called out instead of “Kirsten”. When she looks up from her book just in time to hear the second barista say the name, she catches the smug smirk Cameron sends her way.

Her eyes widen just a fraction, darting from the cup to Ass (as she has so pleasantly nicknamed him). The “oh you better not have-” look on Kirsten’s face is responded by the “yes I did and it’s not something I’ll ever regret” expression on his.

And that’s just the first time.

Over the course of the next two months, he’s gone through a slew of nicknames, including “Buttercup,” “Oda Mae,” “Cupcake,” and “Stretch.” By now, the regulars who come in around the same time as her, as well as Ass’s co-workers, have all realized what’s going on. It’s become something of a show, seeing each of their reactions, trying to guess where the day’s nickname will come from, placing bets on who will get in the last word.

Of course, on the side, there’s the betting pool for when the two will finally become an item, set up in a secluded corner of the staff room. Employees only.

One day, maybe a week or two pas the three month mark, Kirsten snaps. She has been remarkably patient with this… this ass (her mental nickname for him is incredibly accurate, in her opinion), but she has had it with him.

That day, she orders her regular drink, but this time instead of a bagel she asks for a cinnamon roll. She pays quickly, wanting to avoid a confrontation with Cameron—even in her head, there’s about a ton of contempt conveyed saying Ass’ name. She was up until around three in the morning working on an essay that equals about half of her grade, and now all she wants is to get her caffeine and go.

But of course, he seems to be in an even more aggravating mood than usual, if that’s even possible.

After exchanging glares with him, she goes and sits down at a table by the window, closing her eyes and resting her head on her folded arms until a ridiculous name is called. She’s 100% sure that he’s picking the wrong names just to get under her skin (there’s no way he can mistake “Kirsten” for “Pork Chop”), but dammit the little smirk he just sent her way when she read it has to be just about the most adorable thing in the world- wait, what?

Kirsten shakes her head. No. She did not just think anything remotely pleasant about him. Getting less than five hours of sleep is just damaging the functionality of her brain. That’s it.


A week later, she steps into the Blue Door Coffeehouse at around 2 o’clock in the afternoon, this time with a (not that she would admit it) friend, Camille. It’s not the first time they’ve come here together—they are roommates, after all, the fact that they frequent the same cafe isn’t surprising.

The fact that Camille is sleeping with the coffee shop’s Assistant Manager, Linus, also adds to the probability of her coming there.

Camille orders a white chocolate mocha and a ham and cheese croissant while Kirsten gets green tea and a scone—it’s the afternoon, so their drinks are both decaf. Ass—sorry, Cameron— doesn’t seem to be working, to Kirsten’s relief. He’s practically always on the shift when she comes in, which irritates her to no end.

They go and sit down, choosing a table in the corner by a giant potted fern. A few minutes later, Linus appears, carrying their drinks and the plates with their food on a tray. After placing everything on their table, he pulls up a chair and sits down with them, breaking off a piece of Kirsten’s scone and popping it into his mouth.

“Sooo… I noticed that someone seemed disappointed when they didn’t see their usual barista working…” he says teasingly.

Kirsten just raises an eyebrow at him, her cool facade masking the panic she feels inside. Did I really seem disappointed? Wait, what the hell am I worried about? I wasn’t disappointed, I was relieved to to not see him. “Shouldn’t you be working?” she asks scathingly.

He waves his hand, dismissing her query. “I’m on break.” Scooting his chair closer, he plops his elbows on the table and rests his chin on his hands. “You know, he’s always requesting the early morning shifts, from 5 to 11… the time frame when you always come here. And doesn’t it seem odd that he voluntarily works that shift, when he always has either an 11:30 class right after or a class ending at midnight the night before?”

Camille and Linus both look her in the eyes and wiggle their eyebrows suggestively in unison, smirking.

Kirsten just rolls her eyes, choosing to ignore their crazy (from her point of view, at least) claims.

Does he really do that?


Not two days later, Kirsten is walking back to her and Camille’s shared house from a class when she bumps into someone. Literally. The binder she’s holding goes flying and the books—they look like they’re from the library, maybe—he’s carrying tumble from his arms onto the sidewalk.

“Great!” She curses, letting out a few choice words not meant for pleasant company. Her binder is lying open on the road, some of the paper tucked into the side pockets are drifting gently to the ground, and everything she had with her is covered in scuff marks. “Thanks a lot, now I’m going to have to copy notes from someone else later.” She holds up a ripped paper, covered in meticulous notes that are now illegible because of the many tears, and presents it to the person who knocked into her—oh great, it’s Ass. Oh, lucky me! she thinks.

Growling, she turns away from him and looks back at her binder. Stomping out onto the street, she’s reaching down to pick it up when out of nowhere she’s yanked by her outstretched hand back onto the sidewalk. A car careens past where she was standing less than a second ago and both she and her rescuer are panting, out of breath.

Eyes wide, she turns back to look at Ass—Cameron. He just saved her life, the least she can do is start mentally referring to him by his actual name.

His chest is heaving, and he’s trying to catch his breath—he must have sprinted to reach her before she was hit by that car. “Y-you okay… Rocky?” He’s still panting, and her now-trashed binder is lying forgotten in the street.

“Y-yeah.” she stutters out, still kind of in shock. Noticing that he still has a grip on her wrist, she blushes and quickly pulls her hand away.

A minute later, when they’ve both recovered sufficiently and they’ve gathered up their respective things, Cameron’s face gets that obnoxious know-it-all look. “Idiot! You know, you should really look where you’re going before going out into the street. Cars can clearly,” he gestures towards where she was almost run over, “Come out of nowhere!”

She snorts, eyes narrowing as she glares at him. “Yeah, like you’re one to talk! You ran into me like you’re practically blind!”

He glares. “For your information, I am wearing my contacts!”

She rolls her eyes, mentally filing away the information that he has bad eyesight (knowledge is power, after all). “Well, if you hadn’t bumped into me, my binder wouldn’t have been knocked over into the road and I wouldn’t have almost been hit by a car. This is all your fault.”

I bumped into you?! Yeah, right!”

By now, they’re yelling, their glares intense enough to practically burn a hole in concrete.

“Now who’s the stupid one?!”

“I am studying to get a PhD in neuroscience! What are you doing, learning how to make mac ‘n cheese from a box?—which is a completely unhealthy source of nutrition, not that you’re unfamiliar with that sort of thing, you order a different sugar-coated pastry for breakfast every day of the week!”

“Says the guy who’s asking for the shifts when I show up at the coffee shop!”

“JESUS!” a loud voice yells out from behind them, snapping them out of their argument. The two college students turn around in unison, staring at the person in question.

It’s an LAPD detective who frequents the Blue Door Coffeehouse, and who is particularly fond of their donuts. Kirsten thinks his name is Fisher, or something similar. “The whole world know that you are incredibly attracted to one another, except you apparently!” he continues.

“There’s a betting pool at your work, Cameron, for when you’ll get together! You calling her nicknames has become a tourist attraction! Kirsten, we can all see your little smile every time it’s a new one! He knows your coffee order by heart, he just asks so you’ll talk to him! Everyone is incredibly, irrationally invested in your romantic relationship. But right now, I live in the house right here,” he points to the house they happen to be standing in front of, “And you are making my three-year-old daughter cry, so I. Don’t. Really. Care. Take your argument, flirt fest, whatever it is, somewhere else, and GET. A. ROOM.

With that, he storms off back inside what is (apparently) his house. Kirsten and Cameron are left in an awkward silence on the sidewalk. They stand there, shuffling around, neither really willing to be the first one to talk.

With a sigh, Cameron abruptly starts speaking. “I’ll see you around, Princess.” And he pushes gently past Kirsten, going where he had originally intended to before the whole mess happened.


Kirsten’s in her room, typing away at her laptop while laying in bed. She’s experimenting with a few new techniques of coding that her professor mentioned in class yesterday; semi-finals are coming up and she wants to be prepared for just about anything. She’s got headphones on, and they’re blasting music at a loud volume, so she doesn’t here Camille knocking.

After about 10 seconds of waiting (Camille isn’t known for her patience), she sighs and just lets herself in. When she jumps onto the bed, making it bounce, Kirsten finally looks up and takes off her headphones, pausing the music. When she doesn’t immediately tell Camille to leave, the brunette takes it as a sign of acceptance and she tucks herself under the blonde’s covers, snuggling into her bed.

“I hear that you met Cameron outside of the Blue Door and it got kind of explosive.” she mentions after a few minutes of silence. Kirsten has gone back to typing, although she hasn’t put her headphones back on, and at this she freezes.

“Yeah, well, apparently everyone could hear it, we were so loud. We hate each other’s guts, remember?” she finally answers, tapping away at the keys again.

Camille sighs. “Really? I mean, if someone—meaning me—asked you to list exactly what you hate about Cameron Goodkin, right here, right now, what would you say?”

Kirsten exhales, finally closing her laptop. She scoots forward and leans back again, so her head rests against her pillows. She stares up at the ceiling, thinking.

“I hate how calls me annoying nicknames. I hate how he’s an arrogant ass. I hate how he acts like he’s so much smarter than me, just because he’s taking some neuroscience classes. I… I hate how his hair always looks like he just got out of bed. I hate how his stupid smirk sends shivers down my spine, I hate how his glasses make him look both incredibly nerdy and at the same time make my heart skip a beat, I hate that he’s overall a very attractive person, dammit he’s an ass I’m not supposed to be kind of in love with him!

Camille’s jaw drops, her eyes wide. Clearing her throat, she smirks. “I didn’t realize you felt that… strongly about him.”

Kirsten freezes. “Did I just…?” Her unspoken question weighs heavy in the air.

Camille pats her shoulder comfortingly, scooting out from under the covers and leaving Kirsten to think. “Yeah, Kirsten, you did.”

The blonde promptly grabs a pillow and screams into it, as loud as she can. Dammit.


It’s two weeks later. Semi-finals are over, and everyone’s kind of drifting in a state of pure happiness. But ever since that confession of sorts in front of Camille, Kirsten has been a complete and utter wreck inside. She hasn’t stopping thinking about what she said, and it’s kind of been driving her crazy.

Now that she’s realized that she may or may not have feelings for one Cameron Goodkin, she’s pretty much been avoiding the Blue Door Coffeehouse. She’s even started going to Starbucks instead—she hates it, but she needs caffeine and she just can’t stand to see him right now.

Kirsten’s walking down the street, heading to a bowling alley where she’ll be meeting Camille and a few of her friends (Camille’s, not Kirsten’s). The brunette has been insisting that she get out and socialize, and this time, she finally agreed (there may have also been the extra incentive of free Nutella and Chinese food, but that’s neither here nor there).

For the second time in as many weeks, she crashes into someone on the sidewalk—luckily this time neither was carrying anything. Kirsten looks up from where she’s checking to make sure she wasn’t hurt (she did land on concrete, after all) and realizes that oh shit the exact guy I’ve been trying to avoid because I might be in love with him is the one that I just bumped into.

Once he sees Kirsten, his eyes narrow, irritation and what looks hurt showing in them. “Honestly, you would think that after knocking someone to the ground when you didn’t see them would be a good reason to get your eyesight checked. Clearly, you don’t think the sam—”

Kirsten is kind of fed up now. She’s been bottling up these crazy feelings for this ass in front of her for about two weeks now, and she just needs to let them out. She is tired of dealing with them but not talking about them, because they are just plain annoying.

Plus, she’s also getting more and more irritated with Cameron the longer he’s talking, and he just needs to shut. up.

And so she stops him from talking any longer in the only way she knows will probably work: by reaching up, and smashing her lips onto his.

The kiss clearly stuns him, as he’s frozen for a few seconds before responding to it with the same enthusiasm she has.

As they kiss in the middle of the sidewalk, Kirsten thinks, yeah, maybe I am supposed to be kind of in love with him.